The Worst Thing in the World

In the same Barth Q and A mentioned in the previous post there is a question about the relationship between Christianity and other religions. Based on the text in Acts 14 where it says that God did not leave the nations without witness or testimony, the student asks Barth whether there is revelation in religions outside of Christianity. Barth's response? "The answer is 'No'" But what then of Acts 14 and these "testimonies" given to the nations?

Barth explains this by drawing a distinction between revelation and what he calls "signs." Certainly, he says, the world is full of signs of God's presence. Paul also talks about this in Acts 17 and in Romans 1. But these signs of God's presence are not revelation, that is, they are not God's self-disclose, His own speech concerning Himself.

Returning to other religions, he notes that in the Bible the other religions surrounding Israel (and later, the Church) are not dealt with as revelation. On the contrary, the relationship between the people of God and other religions is always agonistic (though it must be said that the relationship between the people of God and the people of other religions is not always so). Indeed, Barth summarises the story of Scripture as the fight between God's revelation and what is called religion. "The worst thing in the world," claims Barth, "is religion." One hesitates to conclude that this is mere exaggeration. Indeed, Barth returns to his first answer - there is no revelation in other religions - and adds that one can and must include Christianity in this Nein insofar as Christianity has become a religion. What initially looked like "religious intolerance" from Barth becomes something much more interesting: the call to abolish all religion, including the Christian one.

"God's speaking in the Gospel - now there is revelation over against the whole Christian and non-Christian world!"

The "Thus saith the Lord" is therefore not the word of a pious man, or the theological insight which has arisen form the human heart. It is, for Barth, the Word which is strange and new, graceful and helpful. In other words, revelation is apocalyptic all the way down. If we follow Barth, we might say that the extent to which Christianity fails to conform to this apocalypticism is the extent to which it becomes the worst thing in the world.

Do the Barth Man

If you go to this website you can hear Barth deliver his lectures on evangelical theology in Princeton in 1962, as well as some Q and As. I especially recommend the latter, since it gives you a chance to appreciate Barth's wit and self-deprecation. One exchange in particular stands out,

In the Q and A with students, one of them quotes to Barth a sentence he wrote in The Resurrection of the Dead (from the mid 1920s), and asks Barth is he still agrees with this sentence, and if he does, is it not problematic? Barth comments that that book was written a long time ago, and that there are certainly sentences which he can no longer uphold. But he asks the student to read the quote again slowly, and says "I will look into what I can make of it." So the student repeats the quote from Resurrection: "Exactly in the place of that which makes me a man, the human soul, is placed that which makes God God."

In the recording you hear a sort of confused pause by Barth, followed by silence, and then laughter from the crowd. Barth himself seems to be laughing. As the laughter stops, Barth asks: "Can you tell me...what I may have meant...!?" Barth is laughing again by the end of his question, and the students follow suit.

From another theologian this question could come across as patronising and arrogant, as if to say: well of course I know what I meant, but I want to check to see if YOU know how to interpret me. But here it is a genuine question from Barth, a question which seems to be mocking the obscurity of the original quotation. For all Barth's giftedness as a theologian, his best characteristic is perhaps his refusal to take himself seriously. He is not precious about "his" theology. From the very beginning of Church Dogmatics he insists that dogmatics is not mastery, but service. This, sadly, is a characteristic often absent from Barthians, who would do well to pay as much attention to the spirit of Barth's theology as to the letter.

If you want to hear the exchange for yourself, click here and go to minute 10:30

Non-Competitive?

If you've ever wondered what psychoanalysis might have to say about The Sound of Music, then wonder no more. In the above video philosopher Slavoj Zizek uncovers the "hidden" message of the film, and more importantly, the "hidden" message of the Church as institution: "pretend to renounce and you can get it all". In the case of the film "getting it" means getting Baron von Trapp.

What Zizek doesn't mention is the theological move which the head of the Convent makes. Here's the key part of the dialogue:

Maria: I left... I was frightened... I was confused. I felt, I've never felt that way before, I couldn't stay. I knew that here I'd be away from it. I'd be safe... I can't face him again... Oh, there were times when we would look at each other. Oh, Mother, I could hardly breathe... That's what's been torturing me. I was there on God's errand. To have asked for his love would have been wrong. I couldn't stay, I just couldn't. I'm ready at this moment to take my vows. Please help me. 

Reverend Mother: Maria, the love of a man and a woman is holy too. You have a great capacity to love. What you must find out is how God wants you to spend your love. 

Maria: But I pledged my life to God. I pledged my life to his service. 

Reverend Mother: My daughter, if you love this man, it doesn't mean you love God less. No, you must find out and you must go back. 

Maria: Oh, Mother, you can't ask me to do that. Please let me stay, I beg of you. 

Reverend Mother: Maria, these walls were not built to shut out problems. You have to face them. You have to live the life you were born to live.

At work in the Reverend Mother's pastoral wisdom is a non-competitive account of a creation governed only by the law of love. In essence, the advice to Maria is "follow your heart". Such advice is, of course, the very antithesis of pastoral wisdom, but who of us would not like to hear it?

This is what makes a passage such as 1 Corinthians 7 so troubling (and so ignored). Paul speaks of divided interests, of a "world" which competes with God for our time and devotion and service. In other words, if Maria had gone to St Paul for advice, it seems he would have told her: stay as you are. By loving this man you will almost certainly end up loving God less. But if you're too horny then go ahead and marry him. You won't be sinning, and your union with him can be of service to God. Now this advice may have led to the very same outcome, but the kind of world that Maria now inhabits would have been radically altered by Paul's speech.

Another episode from The Sound of Music which Zizek does not mention is the relationship between Liesl, the eldest daughter in the von Trapp family, and Rolfe, a telegram delivery boy. Their relationship mirrors that of their seniors in many ways, but it does not enjoy the same happy ending. Nazism gets in the way of true love! There is a very interesting exchange toward the end of the film. Liesl meets Rolfe in Vienna, having not seen him in quite some time. She tries to rekindle their youthful romance, but the newly recruited Nazi Rolfe tells her: "I'm now occupied with more important matters."

More important than modern, romantic love?! Neither the film, nor the Christians it depicts, can imagine such a thing. Surely the only true ideology is one which allows us to roam free in a non-competitive space, where even God Himself does not impinge on our personal projects.

But the God of Paul does so impinge. As Zizek says, the kind of non-competitive, follow-your-heart logic of the Reverend Mother does not belong to Christianity as such. Christianity is much more interesting than that. So what am I saying? I think I am saying that if we want to look for the logic of Christian discipleship in The Sound of Music, we can look no further than the Nazi Rolfe.

That's Amore

Since I am supposed to be doing research on love (if ever something cries out not to be researched, it is surely love), Pope Francis's latest statement has proved timely. It is called Amoris Laetitia - The Joy of Love. Francis is not reflecting on love per se (whatever that might mean), but on love as it pertains to family life.

I have only began to read what is a fairly long statement, but the following line caught my attention. Francis says:

The ability of human couples to beget life is the path along which the history of salvation progresses.

This claim comes in the context of "fruitful" human love being understood as imaging the fecundity of the divine life. I have two things to say about it.

First, it is not true. If Scripture teaches us anything, it teaches us that it is precisely the inability of human couples to beget life that is the path along which the history of salvation progresses. The child of promise, and not the child of the flesh, is the one who carries forward the divine blessing. This is a basic theological truth, but it is one so easy to miss, and one whose implications are enormous.

Second, Pope Francis's claim shows how tempting it is to speak the language of natural theology when we talk about love between human beings. Indeed it is hard to know how to speak about love and *not* engage in a bit of natural theology, intentionally or otherwise. My hope is that Karl Barth might teach me how to do so, and thus help me to avoid the notion of agape as the civil virtue which keeps the machine running. (Not that that's what Pope Francis is doing, I hasten to add.)

Film Awards 2015, part 2

• Most Blatant Case of False Advertising Since The Neverending Story

Watching the trailer for Suffragette, it appeared that Meryl Streep had a significant role to play in this piece of historical fiction. In reality, the trailer showed almost the entirety of her performance. Meryl Streep is in this film in the same way that Sean Connery is in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves - by not really being in it at all. The comparisons between Suffragette and Prince of Thieves don't end there, however. Both focus on a character who joins the cause of the oppressed. Both lead characters challenge the injustice of the law and are thus treated as outlaws. Both feature a despicably evil male antagonist. And both don't quite live up to the subject matter. Now Suffragette is far superior to Prince of Thieves. Most films are. But there is something about it that didn't quite work for me. It's decent, but I thought it would be brilliant.

• Best Shot

I expected Sicario to be thrilling, but I didn't expect it to be beautiful. There is a stunning aerial shot

of a convoy of SUVs serpentining (?) its way into Juarez which shows the makers of the awful True Detective season 2 how it's done. But the best shot of all captures the silhouettes of an elite team of operatives descending into a hidden tunnel as the sun sets on the Texas desert. This cinematic flair combined with excellent performances from Emily Blunt and Benicio Del Toro distinguishes Sicario from the pack.

• The Richard Dawkins Foundation for Science and Reason and Logic and Bigotry Award for the Film which Contributes More to Science than Richard Dawkins Himself

If I ever end up stuck on Mars, I want to be stuck there with Matt Damon. I don't use the word "hero" lightly, but he is the greatest hero in American history, It's almost impossible not to like him, And it's almost impossible not to like his character in The Martian. Without exaggeration, this is the coolest botanist you're ever likely to see on screen. Matt Damon gets to deliver some cracking lines, such as: "I'm going to have to science the shit out of this." And that is quite literally what he does, since he uses his own poo as a way to grow potatoes on Mars. I wasn't a huge fan of the scenes which didn't feature Damon, but overall The Martian is like a light-hearted version of Interstellar (which also featured Matt Damon and Jessica Chastain), and it is all the better for it. It is full of science and reason and logic. And given its "white-washing" of some Asian characters who originally featured in the novel, it is also full of bigotry. Richard Dawkins would be proud.

• Worst Car Chase

It could only be the one featured in Spectre. Bond and the henchman race around Rome in a couple of lavish sports cars. They don't drive particularly fast. There are no machine guns attached to the vehicles. There are no laser guided missiles. No banana skins are released from the rear. They don't even bump into each other. Bond simply gets a small head start on the henchman, and maintains it without much fuss for a minute or two, until he drives into a river or something like that. It is boring beyond belief.

• Best Hagiography

The Steve Jobs depicted in Steve Jobs is an asshole. There's no denying it. He's rude, manipulative, heartless, mean, arrogant, vindictive. The film doesn't shy away from this side of him. But he's not a bad man. Yes, he's "poorly made." But his supposed worst offence - his neglect of his daughter - is amended by the end of the film. All his other petty squabbles and character flaws are covered over by the healing of this central relationship, as Danny Boyle's three act play comes to a neat close. But Steve Jobs was not a "regular type asshole." His crimes against humanity are completely overlooked. Where was the snappy pre-launch conversation with the mother of the Foxconn employee who committed suicide? This is an all too sanitized account of a flawed, modern saint. I have heard people cite Steve Jobs as an argument for allowing Syrian refugees into the States, If anything, Steve Jobs embodies the only argument for not allowing Syrian refugees into the U.S. "But he invented the iPhone!" Exactly. I rest my case.

• Best Second Part of a Film that was Unnecessarily Divided Into Multiple Parts

I was a big fan of the first two Hunger Games films. Not so much the third, but it grew on me after the second viewing. The Hunger Games III/2 does not rival the first two in terms of thrills and the amount of Woody Harrelson we get to see, but for its sheer bleakness and subversive narrative it deserves this award. I just didn't see this end coming. That just shows you the extent to which I have been tricked into thinking that war ends well.

• Best Remixed Christian Film

I'm convinced that Christmas with the Coopers began life as a "Christian film", with Kirk Cameron ear marked to play the lead role. It has all the hallmark signs: family values, Christian character who always finds the moral high ground, saccharine voice over, wisdom from the elderly. But then someone got their hands on the script and decided to marry it with some edginess: a young girl who swears, a gay character, some weird kissing. Much like the marriage in the film, this one is not happy. The film is entirely confused about what it wants to be. It's neither dramatic nor funny, and it has some very odd moments. And in the biggest twist of all, it ends with the Coopers doing some zany dancing in the middle of a hospital ward, because, you know, they don't have inhibitions like normal families. (What do you mean "that's almost exactly how Little Miss Sunshine Ends"?) The Coopers also don't have tact. Joyous dancing in the middle of a hospital: insensitive much? This is truly awful stuff.

• Most Ridiculous Temper Tantrum

Imagine someone with a propensity for outbursts of rage being given some upsetting news. Now imagine that person with a lightsaber in their hand. We're treated to not one but two of these scenes in Star Wars: The Force Awakens. They feel like out-takes from Spaceballs, which is not a compliment. Yes, it's funny to see the new Darth Vader trashing things with his lightsaber and the fear of those who bring bad news. But these scenes only serve to make what should presumably be a scary character seem like a spoiled child who's just been told he's not allowed to play with the death star. We're moving dangerously close to Kick-Ass 2 territory at this point, which I don't think is where Star Wars wants to be. It's not where anyone wants to be. If this is the character whose journey we're supposed to follow over the next 17 Christmasses, then it doesn't bode well. The same goes for the character played by the new Keira Knightley. The greatest trick J.J. Abrams ever pulled was convincing the world he makes good films. The Star Trek reboots are crimes against cinema. I read an interview in which Abrams cited Terrence Malick as an influence for this Star Wars re-make. While that does explain the half-hour spent looking at a tree while the C3PO contemplates the ambiguous nature of the force in a voice-over, there is none of Malick's daring in this safe but forgettable adventure. Malick leaves himself open to boos (although he never actually hears the boos himself, since he spends his time cutting people's hair in a cave just outside Paris). Abrams has probably never heard a boo in his life (Exhibit A: Star Trek: Into Darkness has an 87% rating on RT. I will never get over that). Star Wars will make its billions. But if by some divine miracle it doesn't, just make sure the Disney executives don't have lightsabers in their hand when you tell them the bad news.

• Best Film

I came into this film with no expectations, and without having seen any of the previous films in the series. I left Mad Max: Fury Road with a renewed faith in cinema and a strong urge to play the electric guitar while spraying chrome into my mouth. This is a film which has an enormous amount of care and craft behind it, which seems a strange thing to say about a film which opens with the title character stuffing a lizard down his throat. But in all the mayhem – and there really is a lot of mayhem to go ‘round – there is this odd but intoxicating aesthetic which is maintained throughout. Consider this film an ode to moving vehicles of all shapes and sizes, and an antidote to Spectre's excuse for a car chase. In truth, though the film bears Max’s name, it belongs to Charlize Theron’s Furiosa. Without having to say much she is an inspirational hero. We join her and her fellow escapees on a war rig as they attempt to flee the patriarchal tyrant Immortan Joe, whose hold over his people is symbolised by his control of the city’s water supply. Will their attempt at escape be successful? You can’t be certain. But what is certain is that you will have one hell of a ride watching the whole thing unfold. The cinema was made for moving pictures like this. Forget film of the year: this is the best action film I’ve ever seen on the big screen.

Film Awards 2015, Part 1

Before I moved to Aberdeen I had it on good authority that there is nothing to do other than go to the cinema. Now that I've lived in Aberdeen for 3 months, I can tell you on good authority that there is nothing to do other than go to the cinema. A Cineworld Unlimited card is therefore not a luxury but a necessity. Without one you will die. Between now and this time next year I expect to have seen over four thousand movies. This blog post will therefore be a lot trickier in 2016. For now, however, I feel capable of presenting you with The Decy's - my awards for the films of 2015.

• Funniest Film

Maybe it was the Venezuelan heat, maybe it was the fact that it wasn't Two and a Half Men (one of the shows shown in English on Venezuelan TV), maybe it's the fact that good comedy is hard to find these days, maybe, just maybe, it was actually a decent film. But whatever the reason, this award goes to Horrible Bosses 2. This is one of those rare sequels that actually outshines the original. If you like Charlie whats-his-face from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia then you will probably like this movie. I like Charlie whats-his-face from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

• Best Western

This may have been the only western I saw in 2015, but that doesn't mean that The Salvation is here by default. Which it is. Nevertheless, this Mads Mikkelsen-led revenge piece is solid to a fault.  This really is Western-by-numbers, complete with evil-mustached-gunslinger-terrorising-small-town, and woman-in-need-of-help. Well beneath the surface there is some subversive political commentary, but for this most part this is a straight shootin' western of reasonable caliber.

• Best Film Starring Landry from Friday Night Lights

Honourable mention to Black Mass, but the gong goes to Bridge of Spies. This was a surprisingly witty and wonderfully shot film. Clean, crisp, and without a wasted moment or word. It did leave me a bit cold, however. I never felt any sense of tension, even when we arrived at the titular bridge. The movie always had the feel of a story that would end well. But it's nice to see Landry doing well for himself, eh?

• Best Actor

For his portrayal of a young Brian Wilson in Love & Mercy, I'm giving The Decy to Paul Dano. The highest compliment I can pay to Dano is to say that if the film had spent all its time with his Brian WIlson rather than cutting to the later Wilson played by John Cusack, Love & Mercy could have been film of the year. The scenes in the recording studio are engrossing, and there is a memorable moment when Dano's Wilson plays his new song "God Only Knows" on the piano for his angry and controlling father. Here we see the genius, the sadness, and the vulnerability all at work. And then X-Factor went and spoiled it all by doing something stupid like having someone butcher this Beach Boys classic Alexandra-Burke-Does-Hallelujah style. Is there nothing sacred?

• Best Sequel Which Erases the Memory of Mission Impossible 4

This franchise is a case of odd numbers decent, even numbers crap. I have previously expressed by dislike for MI:4 (the one where Slavoj Zizek plays the bad guy). I'm pleased to report that Mission Impossible 5 is a vast improvement, i.e. it's watchable. The opening scene with the airplane is incredible, and there is a teriffically tense sequence at an opera. It all goes a bit flat after that, but this is still by far and away the best sequel to Mission Impossible 4 released this year. A worthy winner.

• Best Film that's Better than All Previous Jurassic Park Sequels but Still Considerably Worse than the Original

If Landry from Friday Night Lights is the omnipresent supporting actor of our times, then Bright from Everwood is the omnipresent lead actor. I can live with that. Jurassic World has little of what made the original so memorable, but there is plenty to keep you entertained, and one genuinely laugh-out-loud moment featuring Nick from New Girl.

• Best Film Which Has Paul Giamatti Play the Kind of Character Paul Giamatti Played 15 Years Ago

There can only be one winner here: San Andreas. While The Rock received all the acting plaudits for his nuanced portrayal of a macho rescue pilot, Paul Giamatti does what Paul Giamatti does best: he plays a geeky tech guy who shouts a lot. A true return to form for Giamatti, and one for the grand-kids' college fund.

• Worst Casting Director

The Man From U.N.C.L.E.'s Reg Poerscout-Edgerton may just have out done the Mummy 3's Ronna Kress in managing to cast the most amount of actors who play major characters from other countries. We have an American playing a Russian, a Brit playing an American, a Swede playing a German, and an Australian playing an Italian. The accents are as ropey as the film in general. Were there no Russian actors to call upon for the role of Illya Kuryakin? I seem to recall a very talented Russian actor playing Harrison Ford's nemesis in Air Force One. Was he not available? As for the role of Napoleon Solo, the list of actors considered for the role reminds me of Manchester United's recent shopping list: all big names, but none of them remotely interested. Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Ryan Gosling, Channing Tatum, Alexander Skarsgård, Ewan McGregor, Robert Pattinson, Matt Damon, Christian Bale, Michael Fassbender, Bradley Cooper, Leonardo DiCaprio, Joel Kinnaman, Russell Crowe, Chris Pine, Ryan Reynolds, Jon Hamm, Tom Cruise. Yep, all of these actors were "considered" by Reg, but he decided that Marouane Fellaini Henry Cavill was the man for the job. Suuuuure, Reg. We believe you.

• Best Film About a Terminally Ill Teenager that Leaves You Feeling Heartless for Hating It

Pace the Sundance Film Festival, I thought Me, Earl, and the Dying Girl was properly crap. Yet another film shamelessly sucking up to the film industry. Yet another film with CRAZY parents who make our own parents seem to boring. Wow, did his dad just say that!? Dad's don't say that kind of thing! That's crazy! I wish my dad was like that! I think Stanley Tucci is a repeat offender in this regard. Third strike and he's out. I'm serious, Stanley. Play a crazy parent again. I dare you. I double dare you motherf****r! In what could have been an interesting film about friendship with the dying, we are instead treated to "one young man's personal journey", with the central dilemma being: will he get into college? The film also lies to us. I mean flat out lies. If we can't trust the movie industry, who can we trust?

That's all for part one. Stay tuned for part 2 tomorrow, where I will be presenting eight more awards, including the prestigious Richard Dawkins Foundation for Science and Reason and Logic and Bigotry award for the film which contributes more to science than Richard Dawkins himself, as well as the award for film of the year.

Yoder and the Work of Christian Theology

What do you do with a highly influential (and deceased) Christian theologian who has been exposed as a systematic abuser of women? That, apparently, is a question worth pondering at a social gathering of theology students. (We also do Bar Mitzvahs and children's birthdays.) Anything useful I say here has almost certainly been borrowed from a colleague. Anything stupid is entirely my own.

For those who do not know the story, Mennonite theologian John Howard Yoder, in the last years of his life (he died in 1997), was forced to admit to various counts of sexual abuse toward women and to undergo a process of repentance and restoration. The dominant narrative up until recently has been that Yoder repented, submitted to a disciplinary process, and came out the other end a restored Christian. By and large his work continued to be used by Christians well after his death. I am among these Christians. You will be hard pressed to find an essay of mine written for my undergraduate degree that does not include a citation of one of Yoder's many works. I approached his work entirely uncritically, and focussed solely on the fact that his exegesis of Scripture was convincing and convicting.

What I did was wrong, with or without the latest information regarding Yoder's crimes (crimes for which he served no time in prison). To be uncritical is to cease to do the work of Christian theology. In truth, it is to cease to do the work of a Christian. A Christian is not a positive thinker. There should be no one more critical than a Christian, for there was no one more critical than Christ. We learn that from his first instruction as a wandering prophet: Repent! Why and how we do the work of criticism is another question, but there can be no question that it is work which must be done. The uncritical church will not be a "positive" influence in society. It will be a miserable place of secrecy and betrayal, with no hope of truthful communion. 

To bring this back to Yoder, there can be no escaping the sin of the institutions who allowed him to abuse women under his supervision. Institutions - and the church is here no exception, but perhaps the great exemplar - cannot bear criticism, because criticism quite literally comes with a cost. How many times has the church acted as if it is above criticism, as if it can sweep criminal actions under the rug in the name of a warped view of the church's standing in the world? What is this other than a grossly sinful attempt to maintain the church's being as a "light to the world"? What is this other than Genesis 3 repeated: wilful disobedience and blatant cover-up, followed by excuses along the lines of, "Well, there's two sides to every story..." The Wire - that great, modern critique of institutions - puts the matter straighter than most Christians would: a lie is not another side of the story; it's just a lie.

I said that, until recently, Yoder was used by and large uncritically by theologians. An article written in January 2015 has made this uncritical stance impossible. The story of Yoder the theological genius who had a grave sin in his life, who repented of this grave sin and underwent church discipline, and who has now been restored to us as a brother, is not another side of the story. It is a lie. Yoder wrote numerous theological essays which justified his actions. He could never see that what he was doing was sin, and so he could never properly repent. He used not only his position and power, but also his theology to make possible his life of violence against over 100 women.

What do we do with John Howard Yoder? Much depends on who this "we" is. I have had this conversation exclusively with Christians, which should tell us that this is not an "academic" question but an ecclesial question. It is tempting for Christians theologians to turn this into an academic issue, and to treat Yoder as first of all a source, someone who's work can be cited in university papers. In this register our duty is to the integrity of ourselves and our academic work. But that is to miss our primary duty, which is to the church. We when the question of Yoder is asked with the church in mind, I think there is little doubt as to what our action should be: hand Yoder (his person and work, which Christian theology has taught us not to separate) over to the flames in the hope that he will be saved. The Church has. a certain times in its history, quite literally burned the work of theological geniuses who were deemed destructive for the Church's life. The case of Yoder should make us more sympathetic to this drastic action. If nothing else this teaches us that the Church does not live by the work of its theologians. The Church lives by the Word of God. All other texts, from the greatest (Church Dogmatics) to the least (take your pick) are dispensable. Thomas Aquinas was really on to something when he called his life's work "so much straw." 

Furthermore, Christian pacifism does not require the witness of Yoder for its intelligibility, who in truth is a counter-witness. Christian pacifism's intelligibility and witness is secured by the lordship of Christ in His Word and the presence of the Spirit in the Church. What should really worry Christian theologians is not the question of whether to cite Yoder in one's work. It is the question of how (if at all!) one handles the Scriptures. That there will be thousands of theological works which contain not one jot or tittle of Scripture should make all Christian theologians pause and think: what am I doing? To what tradition do I belong?

Another factor which must be included in this discussion is sex (as in male and female). It is an incredibly small sample size, but from my interactions with people it seems that men are more inclined to struggle with the question of Yoder, whereas for women it is quite straightforward. Thinking (uncritically) as a man, I find myself producing the following logic: well, I'm no less sinful than Yoder, and given the same conditions I could easily do what he has done, and who am I to judge? In short, the tendency is to sympathise, man to man. This sympathy is misguided and wrong. It is wrong because it is a sympathy with the powerful, not with powerless. It is sympathy with the oppressor, not with the oppressed. It is a sympathy which thinks of itself as understanding, compassionate, forgiving, but it is a deeply patriarchal sympathy, and as such it is a sympathy which Christ opposes.

When I described the duty of the theologian as being a duty to the Church, in the case of Yoder the duty of the theologian is first of all to the women of the Church. It is a duty to the victims of Yoder's abuse, victims who may read your work. The Church must listen to these women, and to all the women - theologians, ministers, laypeople - who see things far clearer than the men. Sympathy with Yoder is not a virtue. Just the opposite. The question for me as a man is: can I have solidarity with Christian women? The answer is that I can and I must, but this is no easy task.

I am writing my PhD on Christian love. Since I began my theological education 1 Corinthians 13 has performed a critical role. It has reminded me first of all that human knowledge is partial knowledge. It is relative, not absolute. We see in part and know in part, and all our strongest theological dogmas are provisional, in need of constant criticism in the light of the revelation of Christ. Second, it has reminded me that faith and knowledge without love are empty. I can be a "theological genius" (whatever that might mean), but if I have not love I am nothing. Genuinely nothing. Yoder was known as one such "theological genius", yet he lived a life without love. By the judgement of Scripture, therefore, his words are meaningless noises, his life and work reduced to nothingness. To use Yoder as a pacifist thinker has become entirely unintelligible, because we can say without a shadow of a doubt that he was not a pacifist. If we learn anything from the life and work of Yoder, then,  if there is any "good" to come out of this by the providence of God, we learn that pacifism - indeed, theology itself - is not a "position" or an "idea," but a practice.

Why Remembrance Day in the Church is u̶n̶B̶a̶r̶t̶h̶i̶a̶n̶ unChristian

Karl Barth's most important contribution to the church is not this or that doctrine, but a way of doing theology. This way begins with the being and action of God as revealed by the person of Christ. This being and action of God is what is really real. Human being and action is only real to the extent that it corresponds to the divine. So, for example, we do not know what a father is, and then understand God in the light of our experience or practice of fatherhood. Rather, we know God as Father, and human fatherhood or lack thereof can only be seen in this light. Human fatherhood is first of all judged and then redeemed by the Fatherhood of God. Or better, first of all redeemed, and then judged.

One of Remembrance Day's effects on the church is the undoing of Karl Barth's contribution. On Remembrance Day we begin with a human understanding of sacrifice, and in the light of this we understand "the greatest sacrifice" offered by Christ. In churches up and down the UK, the relationship between Christ as Lord and the church as servant is reversed. We remember our deeds and judge Him on their terms, when we should be remembering His deeds and opening ourselves up to His gracious judgement. On this day of reversal we forget that Christ was the collateral damage of a foreign occupation conducted in the name of peace, and that he suffered at the hands of those who sacrificed their lives (and the lives of their enemies) for the empire.

One does not need to be a pacifist, then, to oppose the "celebration" of Remembrance Day within the church. One only needs to pay attention to the proper logic of Christian talk about God: a logic based on the truth that when we talk about God we are not talking about a greater version of ourselves.

Spectre and the Ghost of James Bond (minor spoilers)

When I wasn't watching Champions League on a Tuesday night during my teenage years, I was watching James Bond. RTE had what seemed like a never-ending "Bond Season," and I lapped up every minute of it. I have a strange affection, then, for a promiscuous, murderous agent of the empire, and I have an ideal Bond film - From Russia With Love - against which all other Bond films are measured.

Against this measure, Spectre is found wanting. Like the other Daniel Craig outings, this just doesn't feel like a James Bond film. It feels more like a slightly (but only slightly) camper version of the Bourne series. Spectre makes this shift in tone explicit in its portrayal of Bond as an assassin.

The Bond that I remember from those Tuesday nights was no assassin. He was a spy. Killing wasn't something that Bond set out to do. It was what got in the way of sleeping with women and gambling at luxurious casinos. Bond lived an extravagant life, moving from one fancy hotel to the next, having no attachments, no roots, no mundane responsibilities. Bond's mission was to see what's going on over in X. He would go, he would make his presence known, he would get shot at or chased or both, he would do some investigative work, he would land himself in deep trouble, and he would find a way out of it. To reduce him to a hired gun is to strip him of everything that makes him who he is. This is what has happened since Daniel Craig took the wheel.

I have some sympathy with this new direction. I have some sympathy because I have seen Die Another Day. But this is not the way to go.

The best way to illustrate the gulf in class between a classic Bond film like From Russia With Love and Spectre is to compare the train sequences in both films. In the former, we spend quite a bit of time on the train with Bond and his female accomplice. There is a tension to this trip, because we know that the bad guy is somewhere on board the train, but Bond doesn't know. Indeed Bond ends up having dinner with him, unaware that he is dining with the man sent to kill him. This all builds to a dramatic showdown, where one of Q's gadgets comes to save the day. This is brilliant film making. It is brilliant because it devotes time to this sequence, and time means tension.

Contrast this to Spectre. The train sequence receives no time at all. We are given no time to see the relationship between Bond and Dr Madeleine Swann. We're just on a train because a train is a cool place to shoot an action sequence. The bad guys shows up unexpectedly, starts fighting Bond, and Bond wins. It's all rather dreary, because no time has been devoted to it, and therefore no tension has been allowed to develop. For another example of this dreariness, watch the car chase in Rome. It is, without doubt, the most boring car chase in the history of cinema.

It's time for Bond to have a good, long look in the mirror. It's time for some screenwriter to look back at the best Bond films and analyse why they were so good. (Aside: when you see that a film has four screenwriters you know that something fishy is going on. Spectre wears this multiplicity of writers heavily, suffering as it does a complete lack of continuity.) And it's time for Daniel Craig to step down. Perhaps James Bond as espionage's Don Juan is a character that just doesn't work any longer. The world is smaller now, and Bond's extravagant lifestyle isn't as extravagant these days. Spectre at least tried to make a case for our need of James Bond. It just didn't make a convincing one, because the Bond it tried to justify was no Bond at all.